Monday, September 15, 2025

Mid-Month Reading Wrap Up: September

 I regret to say that I have not yet read any of my own books this month, although I have one in progress. I always say that I'm going to focus on the many, many books I own and that I really, really want to read, but then I'm tempted by something I read and I'm off to the library website or I see something on NetGalley and, since I have no willpower, I end up with unexpected books. Ah well, that's OK. Excellent books are everywhere and I only regret that I will never be able to read all the ones I want to. But I can read some of them and here are the titles I spent time with during the first half of September.

Hauntings: Fantastic Stories by Vernon Lee (read on the Serial Reader app)
Originally published in 1890, this is a unique collection of ghost stories, some of which are set in Italy and at least one in the UK. It was an enjoyable read, especially because I consumed it in small doses, a little bit each day.

The Haunting Season: Ghostly Tales for Long Winter Nights by various authors (borrowed from the library)
A couple of years ago, I read and reviewed the sequel to this book, called The Winter Spirits. I loved it. At the time, I don't think I knew that there had been a volume before that book, so when I found out, I requested it from the library. It was excellent. I sat down on an autumnal day with the wind howling and the rain lashing down and read it from start to finish. Delightful. The stories are by contemporary authors. There were some I liked more than others, as is typical of any short story collection. There were 2 years between the publication of this book and that of Winter Spirits two years ago. I'm waiting to see if there will be a third volume soon. If there is, I'll read it.

The Collected Poems by Wendy Cope (borrowed from the library)
This is a collection of all the published poems of Wendy Cope along with previously uncollected poems. It's a wonderful collection which I loved. I read it a bit at a time and felt heartache, joy, hope, and empathy as I read her varied and highly accessible work. Sometimes, I laughed. This poem struck me as funny, but also alarming. She's writing about individuals, but the overarching issue of reality and delusion has serious societal impact.
American Dirt by Jeanine Cummins (borrowed from the library)
I was in the library one day when I learned that there's a book group that meets there. One of the librarians got in touch with the person who organizes and facilitates the group to ask if there was room for one more. There was. This was the book the group read this month. I'd heard of it and the controversy surrounding it, but had never read it. Bill was interested, so he read it first  and thought it was great. I waited until a few days before the meeting. I thought it was good, but heartbreaking to know how much worse things have gotten since the publication of the book. Most of the group thought it was good--slightly above average--but a couple thought it was excellent and one didn't finish it.

The book starts in a bathroom, with a bullet whizzing by the head of Luca, an eight-year-old boy. His mother, Lydia, hustles him into his grandmother's shower so they could hide behind the partial wall. They listen as the gunmen talk amongst themselves, eat some barbecue, and as one of them takes a piss just a few feet away from them. When it's 'safe' to venture back out into Luca's grandmother's back garden, they find everyone, gathered there for a cousin's 15th birthday celebration, killed. Luca's father, a journalist, has a sign on himself that says, 'I got my entire family killed.' He'd written a story exposing the identity of the big boss of the cartel that had been terrorizing the area. There's more to the backstory, which is a bit more involved than 'I was outed and I'm mad so I'm ordering the hit' but I don't want to give anything away, so I'll say no more about that here. Of course, Lydia knows there's a target on her back and Luca's, so she realizes they have to leave. The book is primarily about their run for the border--how they proceed, who they meet, what happens to them and others. It also goes back in time to explain how things unfolded. Lydia thinks about the bookshop she owned and her life with her husband. It's definitely a page-turner. I can't say it was an enjoyable read because I know that people are going through all these things still and it's even worse than it was. It is well-written and although much of the criticism of the book seemed to be about the author not having a right to write such characters, I think it's important to tell these stories. And telling them this way will reach more people than a dry report full of statistics would. Unfortunately, too many people believe outlandish stories about people who risk or give up their lives trying to get to places they feel are safe. It's not like people wake up one day and decide to undertake these hellish journeys just because they feel like it. Anyway, although the book is very dark throughout, there are moments of humor, kindness, hope, and love that keep the reader from falling into total despair. To be honest though, I wouldn't have read it if not for the book group. I can't say I wish I hadn't read it, but it's not one I would have chosen. As someone said to me after the meeting, one thing she likes about the group is that it gets her to read books she wouldn't otherwise.

Soon to be published books I've read so far this month are:

Marginality: Solidarity and the Fight for Social Change by Jin Y. Park (to be published by Columbia University Press on November 18, 2025)
In this excellent thought-provoking book, Korean-American philosopher Jin Y. Park is examining the meaning and value of the margins. She points out that everyone is on the margins at some point in their lives at one time or another. She's also taking a different approach to philosophy than is usual in Western academic settings, drawing as she does on Asian philosophies and literature. She describes the work of Korean philosopher Pak Ch'iu, who argued that philosophy is practice, both grounded in theory, but directed at a goal. Park makes the distinction between public philosophy and academic philosophy. Beyond that, she advocates for what she calls narrative philosophy--'The act of giving meaning by telling and retelling our experiences...' (p 4). Indeed, Park practices what she preaches as she begins her chapters with anecdotes from her own life.

She draws on the work of the existentialists and Buddhist thinkers and contrasts the foundational ideas of the latter with those of Western philosophers, illustrating how new insights can arise when we alter our perspective. She reminds readers that the margin and the center need one another to exist and that what is considered the margin is defined by the center. But there are positive aspects to being on the margin, not least of which is the fact that one gets a more expansive view of reality from there. As I was reading, I was reminded of a comment made to me by one of my students--a white middle class woman--who told me that she was shocked to learn that she had a culture because she'd always just thought her way of life was just normal and it was all those other people who were in different categories than her who had cultures. This is how the center/society operates.

Park goes on to look at specific marginalized identities before concluding with a chapter on benefits of being on the margins. She states that, "The margin is not only a space that the marginalized must endure while confronting the power of the center.Historically, it has also been a space where new and creative ideas emerge, often challenging the stagnation of the center and claiming their own value." (p 143). Furthermore "...the margin reconfigures the center and what the center represents, since the margin is the force for social change." (p 143). The epilogue addresses the current situation in the US.

This is an important, fascinating, and very readable book. There is no jargon, just clear ideas explained beautifully. I loved this book, taking copious notes as I read. There is so much packed into this slim volume and it's well worth your time and attention. I highly recommend it.

Emergent Dharma: Asian American Feminist Buddhists on Practice, Identity, and Resistance: by Sharon A. Suh, PhD (to be published by North Atlantic Books on December 9, 2025)
This fascinating book "...is the first anthology of its kind to surface how Asian American feminists have been doing, being, and seeing Buddhism in generative ways outside of the stereotypes of what it means to be Buddhist in the United States." (p 1) One of the stereotypes Suh and the contributors to this volume are pushing back against is the image of (mostly, but not exclusively, white) converts doing seated meditation. The contributors in this book, while having grown up with Buddhism, may or may not have a regular meditation practice. They also may or may not be 'practicing' in the sense of going to Buddhist gatherings on a regular basis. Their Buddhism, to whatever extent they are still connected to it, is lived. It's practiced not (or not only) on a meditation cushion, but in their everyday lives. It's how they inhabit the world, how they interact with family and others, and a lens through which they view themselves and their relationships. That said, these feminist women are often defining Buddhism and Buddhist practice in ways that are not 'traditional,' and that can lead to some tension with other Buddhists. However, as Suh points out, the goals of feminism and Buddhism are interconnected. According to Suh in her introduction then, the book "...endeavors to clarify that Asian Americans not only practice Buddhism differently, but that a flourishing world of Buddhism is out there, beyond seated meditation aimed at relieving individual and collective suffering." (p 2)

The book does this beautifully. The use of life story here is powerful. Having done life story work with people in the past, I recognize how sharing stories can build bridges of understanding between people. This format allows readers to see, in a very personal and relatable way, how these women relate to Buddhism and how it influences their lives--also how it's a foundational part of their identity, whether they continue to engage in formal practice or not. These stories also show us that Buddhism isn't a separate activity that one engages in on a certain day or at certain times. It's there as a philosophy and a way of life to one degree or another. Sometimes this is a comfort and sometimes something a woman pushes back against. The experiences shared in this volume are varied and encompass many aspects of life. Through these stories, readers learn a great deal about Buddhist philosophy and practice as lived experience. One of the contributors used the term 'pragmatic Buddhism' to describe her path. She did not need or want all of the esoteric and spiritual beliefs and ideas that have been added through the years, but finds the basic teachings very useful--the four noble truths is an example. There is suffering in the world. Much of this suffering is caused by clinging and greed. There is a way out of suffering. That way is the noble eightfold path, which addresses ways to think about and organize one's life in a broad sense (skillful speech, skillful thought, skillful livelihood, etc).

I am not Asian American. I am a feminist. I did not grow up in a Buddhist household or culture. I do not meditate in any classic sense. But I do find pragmatic Buddhism to be my path. That's one of the reasons I loved this book. Another was simply the life stories these women shared. They were touching, powerful, enlightening, and fascinating. I don't think one has to have any background in Buddhism to get something out of this book. Buddhism happens to be one of the connecting threads, but there are others and, in my opinion, it's never a bad idea to learn about the lives of others. It gets us beyond our stereotypes and ideas and expands our minds. This book does that from a few different angles and I highly recommend it. It's well worth your time.

Murder at Mistletoe Manor by F. L. Everett (to be published by Random House UK on October 9, 2025 but may already be out elsewhere)
A few days before Christmas the snow is falling, falling, and falling some more. Nick, a journalist, is trying to get home to London after being away on assignment. His wife and infant daughter are awaiting his arrival. Someone suggests that he wait out the storm, but he's eager to get home, so he drives on only to be sent down the wrong road by his GPS system. Then, as the night comes on, his car conks out. He decides to walk a short way to see if he can find a phone he can use to call his wife and get help. Just as he's about to give up, he stumbles across Mistletoe Manor. There he finds a hotel staff of two--the cook and the guy who does everything else--and several guests. It's clear that he can't go anywhere, so he hunkers down. He tries to get in touch with his wife, but there's no phone signal and the landline doesn't work. The snow continues to fall. Everyone is on edge, since Nick isn't the only guest who had no intention of being there and who wants to get where they're going in time for Christmas. Nonetheless, people try to make the best of it--at least until the next morning when one of the group is found dead in bed. Somehow Nick finds himself using his skills as a journalist to investigate, although it's pretty clear he lacks confidence and isn't really cut out for the job. It's clear one of the people in the hotel did the deed, but who? And is anyone else in danger?

This was a very enjoyable read--a modern story with a classic vibe. The locked room aspect of the story ratchets up the tension. At the same time, there are funny scenes and dialogue as well--I laughed out loud more than once. I thought the book had just the right mix of humor and tension. It's very well written and the characters do come to life on the page. I was immersed in the story from the beginning and kept going back to it, reading it in a day. If you like classic Christmas mysteries, particularly of the locked room type, but set in the present day, then this is an excellent book to pick up.

I thank NetGalley, the publishers, and the authors for digital review copies of the soon-to-be-published books listed above.

And September reading continues. Happy reading!



Saturday, September 13, 2025

Scraps for All Seasons

 A while back, a video with instructions for a hood with cowl (or cowl with hood) came up on my youtube page, the thumbnail of which intrigued me. Then I remembered that I'd seen a similar project somewhere a few years ago. From the thumbnail, I figured I could see how it was constructed, but as the video was only a few minutes long, I decided to watch it and see. I started scanning my mind, trying to remember what yarn I have to make one for myself. I rummaged around until I found what I was looking for and when I found it, I started crocheting.
I had to set it aside when our furry friend was visiting because the yarn was left over from other projects and was wound into balls. Balls roll around when being worked with and our furry friend really, really, REALLY didn't like it when he was resting and something touched his leg. 😄 When he went home, I got it back out and finished the little bit I had left to do. This will be very useful in the winter when a strong, cold, sharp wind is blowing--and it almost always does here. 

The yarn I used is Donegal tweed, which I found in a charity shop some years back. I used some of it in other projects and had a bunch left. After making this, I had enough for a pair of fingerless gloves, which I wear all the time for a good chunk of the year, so I started those and finished the first one. When I'm done with the pair, I'll still have some of the yarn left and will save it to go in an even scrappier project.

This is one of those projects where you can use any yarn you have and the hook that results in the fabric you want. You don't need a gauge swatch and it's easily customizable. I crocheted this one, using single crochet (US terms) through the back loop, but it would work in knitting just as well. Because you start with the cowl part, working back and forth in rows, then seam to make a tube, garter stitch would be perfect for a knitted version. This makes it a very beginner friendly project, whether knitted or crocheted. I might be making myself a knitted version at some point in the near future.

While I'd set this aside, I picked up a different project that I'd started when it was quite warm out. It's made using thread and a small hook, so is taking a while. Because the thread I was using came in little skeins, it didn't flop around like a ball of thread would, so I was free to use it with my furry friend softly snoring next to me as I crocheted. I'm not done with this yet. It will be a scarf--probably a circle scarf-- but I'll decide for sure when I'm done with the crocheting.
It's an excellent mindless project again using some leftover thread (the brighter purple on the right) given to me by a friend and some (the darker purple on the left) that the same friend found in a thrift store in Boston last year when she was there. It comes in skeins that are small, but have a lot of yardage. I'd not seen that kind of thread before and I was thrilled to have it. It's nice to work with and is about a size 10 crochet cotton. When it's done, this will be useful on days that aren't cold, but are a bit chilly. Again, with the wind here, it's often nice to have something around my neck when I'm out and about. For the days when there's a chill wind, but it's a little too warm for wool, this will fit the bill quite nicely. I just have to finish it!

I'm having fun with these projects--I do love my scraps, leftovers, and orphans no matter the season.


Tuesday, September 9, 2025

Ripeness by Sarah Moss

 I read and reviewed this book back in January, and it was published here in May, but it looks like I never put the review here. We'd just found out we were moving then and I was focused on other things. But I saw today that it's published in the US this week, so I'll post my review now.

Ripeness by Sarah Moss

cover art and design is different in the US, I think

This magnificent book takes readers back and forth in time between rural Italy in the 1960s and rural Ireland in the present day as we read about Edith at different points in her life. Edith is a bookish person who grew up on a farm in England and is excited to have earned a place at Oxford University. Her father and grandmother, with whom she lives on the farm, are supportive even as some of the locals consider her a bit uppity. Her mother comes and goes (for understandable reasons) and is against her going to Oxford without taking a year off first to travel first to Italy, then to France, arguing that this would not only improve her language skills, but also give her a wider experience. She makes arrangements for Edith to stay with some friends in each country. Edith goes along with this plan, which gets derailed when she is sent to a villa to be with her older sister, who is unmarried and pregnant. The sisters are quite different--Edith is into words and books while her sister, Lydia, thinks and responds to things in dance. When the story moves to rural Ireland, we're with the 70-something Edith as she goes about the life she's built there, having moved to Dublin as a married woman and going rural at a later point in her life. The chapters of the book alternate between these two settings and to some extent, two Ediths. It's not that she's completely different, but as with all of us (hopefully) with age comes wisdom, often hard-earned, and we inhabit ourselves differently at different times of our lives. This is illustrated beautifully in this book, both in the characterization of Edith at these points in her life, but also in the structure of the book.

For instance, in the Italian sections, Edith is narrating and uses 'I' a lot. It's clear that she is explaining both the events that occurred and what she felt about them. In the Ireland sections, there's an omniscient narrator telling readers what Edith did, said, and thought about. It was an interesting contrast for me as I read. I felt almost like Edith was observing herself and sharing her observations. It's particularly interesting because of her status as a blow-in to rural Ireland. As she acknowledges, she will never completely fit in, will never truly belong--her interactions are almost all performative in some way. The latter is true for everyone to some degree, but as a blow-in to rural Ireland myself, and having been here for over a decade now, I've had time to see how much more it's the case now for me. I can also say that Sarah Moss captured the dynamics of a village in rural Ireland brilliantly, in my opinion. She was spot-on in her descriptions of the kinds of interactions that occur.

In addition to this being a gripping story, I could relate to so much in the book. Themes of belonging or not, who gets to be part of a community, what it means to be a family, what it means to be an immigrant, gender expectations, generational trauma, finding solace and joy in books, and so much more are woven together throughout this excellent book. I highly recommend it. 5 stars

Thanks to NetGalley, the publisher and the author for a DRC.

Saturday, September 6, 2025

August Books Two: Nonfiction, Modern Classics, a Utopia, and a Poetry Collection

 Carrying on from yesterday's post, these are the rest of the books I read in August. There were a few nonfiction titles in my post yesterday, but those haven't yet been published--at least not here. The other two nonfiction books I read--one history and one memoir--have been out in the world for a while now.

Vertigo: The Rise and Fall of Weimar Germany by Harald Jähner (borrowed from library)
The book does exactly what the subtitle says it will, which is trace the history of the Weimar era in Germany from the end of WWI to the rise of Hitler. Jähner looks at various aspects of culture, from gender roles, ideas about morality, family, art, design, film, popular culture of various kinds, music, sport, economics, industry, and more. As this era progresses, the backlash grows--we know where things ended up. This is a fascinating book and one that is sadly relevant today as backlash and magical thinking is once again leading to increased oppression, violence, the removal of basic human rights, and authoritarianism even in places where people thought it could never happen. This book is yet another reminder (how many of these do humans actually need, I wonder) that people are people and these things can happen anywhere. Of course, the specific ways this kind of thing will unfold will be unique in many ways to the cultures that are deteriorating, but the overarching methods used to manipulate people remain the same as do some of the messages these authoritarians use to manipulate people. I became interested some years ago at how alike supporters of the Nazis and supporters of the current US president sound when they talk about their adoration of their sad little leader. This book adds to my foundation of understanding as to how they come to fall under the spell of such people. It's an excellent read.

Timecode of a Face by Ruth Ozeki (BorrowBox audiobook)
I was clicking around the BorrowBox site one evening looking for an audiobook. I decided to give this one a try. It was surprisingly fascinating. Ruth Ozeki describes an assignment given by an art professor to look at a piece of art for three hours. Being a Buddhist, she also remembered a koan--what did your face look like before your parents were born. She sits down in front of a mirror and looks at her face for three hours, noticing physical things about herself, but also letting memories drift through her mind. Noticing that a part of her face is like her mother's, for example, memories arise. Being of Japanese ancestry and a small child in the US just after WWII, some of her memories are quite painful. Others are joyful. This is the case for every life, of course. This is a short book, which I listened to on audio, which I think made the experience even more enjoyable. The author herself reads it, which is excellent. I'm really glad I gave this one a try. I loved it.

I read a couple of modern classics last month as well.
The Glass Pearls by Emeric Pressburger (borrowed from the library)
This book has been reissued by Faber and Faber and has many autobiographical elements woven through the story. In the book, we're following Karl Braun, a piano tuner who is newly arrived at a boarding house in London. Everyone assumes he's someone who fled from the Nazis, but it's soon clear that this is not the case at all. He's fleeing from Nazi hunters because he's on the list of people they want to find. He becomes increasingly paranoid as it becomes clear that someone is looking for him and his behavior becomes more reckless. Through his own thoughts, we learn about his previous life and his work during the war as a doctor, which he justifies as being scientifically valuable and important. The tension increases at a steady pace and the ending is surprising and satisfying.

Good Behaviour by Molly Keane (my copy)
This is the first book Molly Keane published under her own name rather than a pen name and it came after a 30 year break from publishing. It may be her most well-known novel. Keane was an Irish writer who, in this book, writes about an Anglo-Irish family that is quite dysfunctional. The book is narrated by Aroon St. Charles, who is close to her brother Hubert and her father, but has a very bad relationship with her mother. They don't seem to like each other much, although Aroon also wants her mother to care about her. Her father is an amputee since the war and has tried to deal with his traumas by spending money they don't have and getting involved with women other than his wife. Her mother is an artist who is more interested in painting than her kids and is especially disappointed in Aroon who is tall, large, and has a big appetite. Aroon herself is trying to navigate class expectations about good behaviour with the reality that money is in short supply. She's basically someone who doesn't fit in anywhere. The book opens with the death of her mother and then moves backwards in time to relate the history of this family and the few people who've worked for them and lived with them. It was an excellent book, which I picked up in a charity shop. I have an earlier book by Kean, which was written under her pen name, so I still have that to look forward to.

There was one classic utopia in my reading list last month.
Looking Backward: 2000-1887 by Edward Bellamy (read on the Serial Reader app)
I'd heard about this book and was intrigued as I often am by old books that are set in a future time. It's always interesting to see what they thought life would be like. I've read several dystopias, but not may uptopias. This one was apparently very popular and influential at the time of publication, but it seemed ridiculous to me and I suspect that if I hadn't been reading it in small chunks each day, I wouldn't have finished it. One thing I did find interesting was how similar this utopian thinking is to the ideas put forward by the left wing today. Don't get me wrong--I am a lefty in spirit and I think that the ideas are often good ones, whether they're being promoted by people today or in books like this. If these ideas came to be, the world would be a much better place to inhabit in so many ways. But rationally, I know that humans are not like this in general and the kinds of societies dreamed of are not the kinds that humans would build, accept, or keep alive. This is why these ideas are called utopian, I guess. Nowhere have they been and nowhere shall they be. In this book, Julian West, a wealthy guy impatient to be married and annoyed at the workers' strikes that are delaying the construction of his house and thus his wedding, suffers from insomnia. He builds himself an underground chamber to help with this problem and one night, after dinner with his future wife and her family, goes to sleep. It's 1887. When he wakes up, he has no idea where he is and is shocked to discover that it's now 2000 and he has recently been discovered in his bedroom, where his metabolism had slowed to such an extent that he is still alive and kicking 113 years after he went to bed. The book is basically him learning what Boston (and the US and the world) is like now and why it's so much better than his time. The book is good at pointing out the ridiculous aspects of society, but it's very preachy and, considering human behavior throughout history, extremely ridiculous. 

Finally, I read an excellent poetry collection.
What the Earth Seemed to Say by Marie Howe
I heard this poet in an interview and before it was done, I'd been to the library website to place my request. I was not disappointed. This is a beautiful collection of poetry that speaks to so many aspects of life, from the everyday tasks of cooking, taking a child to school, running errands and more, to larger existential issues like climate change and the death of a loved one. There were one or two poems I didn't much care for, but such is the nature of any collection. Overall, I loved this book. Here's a poem from the very beginning that spoke to me.
And that wraps up my reading for August. I hope that, whatever you're reading, it's enjoyable.



Friday, September 5, 2025

August Books One: Mysteries and Soon to Be Published

 Our furry little visitor went home with his mother yesterday, so my lap is free once again and since I'm no longer spending a large chunk of my day playing ball, can turn my attention to other things. Since I didn't get a chance to post my mid-month reading wrap up in August, I'll break the list into two posts. Today I'll tell you a bit about the mysteries and the soon-to-be-published books I read in August.

I continued on with the Georgette Heyer classic mysteries. Of the 12 she published, BorrowBox has 7. I completed these in August, with the last one being available only in an e-book. I listened to the rest in audio. As I was reading the ebook, I could hear the narrator's voice in my head.

Footsteps in the Dark by Georgette Heyer (BorrowBox audiobook)
This was a bit of a departure from the previous Heyer books I listened to. A trio of siblings inherits an old priory with a reputation for being haunted. The two sisters, their brother, and the husband of one of the women laugh this off and move in with a couple of servants, only to quickly become alarmed when they hear strange noises. Investigations ensue, bringing them in contact with some strange people in the village. What's going on? Is there really a ghost or is something more sinister going on? This wasn't the best Heyer mystery I've read, to be honest. I didn't love it, but I didn't dislike it either. I think listening to it on audio helped a bit because I was doing other stuff while I listened. I'm not sure it would have been one I'd have liked to sit and read.

Duplicate Death by Georgette Heyer (BorrowBox audiobook)
Beulah Birtly is the secretary to an odious women named Mrs. Haddington. She hates her job, but fears she wouldn't be able to get another because of some secret scandal in her past. She's engaged to Timothy Kane, who Mtrs Haddington had her eye on as a suitable husband for her very spoiled, shallow daughter. The daughter, however, is pretty keen on the title of a lord who fancies himself a communist. Mrs. Haddington is hosting a bridge party and everything has to be just right--she's very nit-picky. However, her plans are foiled when a guest is found dead in her boudoir, strangled with a piece of picture wire. It was Beulah who bought the picture wire and she has a secret past, so she quickly becomes a suspect. Inspector Hemingway appears to investigate and meets Timothy Kane again--a person he'd met years before on another case, when Timothy was just a boy. They work together, but can they figure things out before more deaths occur? I liked this book much more than I liked the other two Heyers I read this month as it's more what I'd become used to from her--the mystery and the humor. She does class snobbery very well and that's definitely a feature of this book. I laughed out loud at times. All of the Heyer audiobooks I've listened to have been read by Ulli Birve and she's really good. This was the last Heyer audiobook available to me and I'll miss them. At some point, I'll get the remaining Heyer mysteries from the library and read them, but I've really enjoyed these audiobooks.

Penhallow by Georgette Heyer (BorrowBox ebook)
This came in at just the right time for me because with a dog on my lap, holding books was awkward, but reading ebooks on my phone was doable since I could hold and turn pages with one hand. Like the first Heyer book this month, this one doesn't feature her series detectives and isn't really even a mystery at all. A bully of a patriarch, named Penhallow, makes most people around him miserable. There are a number of people around for him to torment--servants, children (both legitimate and not), a sister, the sister and brother of his late first wife, his second wife and his son with her, and a cousin. He is ill and drinks too much. Eventually, after much description of the house and its inhabitants, he is killed. This isn't a mystery and there is no whodunnit aspect to the story. It's part of the narrative. Then we see the reactions of those left behind and the impact of the police investigation. Didn't care for this much. I think Penhallow was supposed to be seen as a sort of lovable rogue at times, but he was just a jerk. I think this would be better characterized as a dysfunctional family saga than a mystery and I don't really recommend it. 

A Mind to Murder by PD James (BorrowBox audiobook)
This is the second Adam Dalgliesh novel. In it, Dalgliesh is at a literary party celebrating the publication of one of his books of poetry. He's called away because there's been a murder at a psychiatric clinic nearby. It's a specialist clinic, catering to the well-to-do. The list of suspects is limited, but there are several suspects to choose from. This was a good solid James mystery--not spectacular, but enjoyable.

Lessons in Crime by various authors (borrowed from library)
This is a British Library Crime Classics title. It's a collection of short stories all having to do with academia/schools. It's a great collection. I'm a big fan of both short stories and classic mysteries, so this is right up my street and it didn't disappoint.

In the soon-to-be published category, I read the following books in August. Publication dates given are for this part of the world and may be different elsewhere--some may already have been published in other places.

Always Home, Always Homesick: A Love Letter to Iceland by Hannah Kent (NetGalley DRC, to be published on November 5, 2025)
I'll start by saying I loved every minute I spent with this book. In addition to be beautifully written, it was also fascinating in many ways, from the information provided about Iceland and its culture, to the inner life of the author, to her process of self-discovery, to the evolution of her novel set in Iceland, Burial Rites--it was all captivating.

I'd read Burial Rites some years ago now, but knew nothing about the author, so when I saw this book I was interested in the author's relationship to Iceland--how she got there and what made her fall in love with it. The book starts during the COVID pandemic in Australia. Hannah Kent is now married to Heidi and they have two children--2 year-old Anouk, and a newborn. Hannah is still recovering from giving birth when she wakes up on her birthday having had another dream about Iceland. From there, we go back in time to when she ended up being an exchange student there. She describes so well what it felt like to be in a place so different to anything she'd ever known and in a society that appears to be rather reserved and often standoffish. She describes learning the language, eating Icelandic food, what she learned, her relationship with her classmates and host families, her fears, dreams, and moments of self-discovery. I could relate to much of this, having had similar experiences (albeit as an adult) when moving to Alaska and working with Inupiaq people and being a host mother to an exchange student. I was telling my husband about some her her experiences and we were both unimpressed with the way she was sometimes treated. The narrative moves on from there, sometimes going back and forth in time as Kent writes about her stubborn fascination with the life of the woman who would become the protagonist of Burial Rites, her first novel. She tells readers about her research and the serendipitous moments that occurred in the process. Finally there is a bit where she explains how she came to write this book.

This book is so much more than a memoir and I highly recommend it.

The Healing Power of Korean Letter Writing by Juhee Min (NetGalley DRC to be published on September 11, 2025)

This was a delightful book. When the publisher offered me a digital review copy, I was intrigued and when I read it, I was so glad I accepted. To begin with, it's a lovely book of encouragement to write letters, covering everything you can think of regarding this method of communication. I've come to appreciate the power of letters from my own experience. My oldest friend loves getting letters from me and would prefer them to physical gifts. We live half a world away from one another and even though we email regularly, when she gets a letter/card, she saves it until just the right moment. However, as I was reading this book, so many more aspects of letter writing and receiving were brought to mind. There were parts of the book that weren't really relevant to my life. I am almost certainly never going to be in South Korea looking for a post office or stamps to buy, for example. But even those very specific parts of the book were very interesting as a window on the culture in which the author lives and works.

Another fascinating aspect of the book was the author's business--a letter shop. I'd never heard of such a thing and was surprised that such a business even exists, but it does and is successful, which is a good thing. In the shop, one can buy paper and envelopes, stamps, avail of a letter writing service, have space to write letters, and be a part of a pen pal exchange. It sounds like a great place.

Finally, I loved the way the author approaches letter writing as an art form. As a creative person myself, this book sparked some ideas about how to incorporate letters into my own work. It was inspiring and I'm thrilled to have read it.

Signs from the Future: A Philosophy of Warnings by Santiago Zabala (NetGalley DRC, to be published on October 28, 2025)

In this important book, Santiago Zabala is issuing a warning himself--we must start approaching emergencies to come in ways that are different to what we've always done. In the introduction, he asks, "Why don't we listen to warnings?" (p 6) He makes it clear that predictions and warnings are not the same thing, explaining that predictions are statements about what will happen, no matter what humans do--future as a continuation of the present. On the other hand, warnings are statements about what is likely to happen unless steps are taken to prevent these events. Warnings offer us a chance to do things differently, thus changing the trajectory of the present. They "... strive to change the future by reinterpreting the past." (p 8) This does, of course, require us to look at things in new ways and be open to radical change. In my own experience, there is real resistance to doing this. Zabala puts it this way: "The problem is not only whether we accept the involvement that warnings expect from us, but also whether we are willing to confront them at all." (p 8) This gets at the crux of the matter for me because again, my experience with this kind of thing is that people are not willing to confront the issues and the realities that warnings ask us to face. It's an issue I've become extremely interested in, which is one reason why I was so eager to read this book. It was fascinating and has given me much to consider.

Zabala draws primarily on the work of four philosophers: Friedrich Nietzsche, Martin Heidegger, Simone de Beauvoir, and Hannah Arendt, although he does include the work of other philosophers as well. Each of the four is relevant to a particular aspect of Zabala's message and the first four chapters of the book are devoted to explanations of this--one chapter per philosopher. From there, he goes on to flesh out his arguments about why people do not want to hear warnings, how they get sucked in my disinformation, how warnings are communicated, both effectively and not, and finally, the role of art in warnings. He does a fine job of explaining why he chose the artwork on the cover of the book, for example.

To give one concrete example, he points out that for years and years scientists have been warning that a pandemic would be coming--it was just a matter of when. Measures could have been put in place to deal with such an eventuality and people could have accepted the warning and been prepared themselves. Instead, everyone seemed surprised and responses were, in many cases, inadequate. There are so many other examples both in the book and that jump into my mind. The warnings are all around us, but it's our choice--do we pay attention or turn away? The future we get depends on our answer.

I should say that you do not have to have a background in philosophy to find this book very much worth your time and thought. I have none. The author does a fine job of explaining the work of these philosophers as it applies to his arguments in terms non-philosophers can understand.

This is a book for this moment and beyond. It's a book that made me think, taught me things, and was simply fascinating to read. I highly recommend it.

And finally, I'll end this post on a lighter note with:

Winter Sky by Shelley Thompson (NetGalley DRC, to be published on October 21, 2025)

Christmas. It's a joyful time of year for some and a painful and difficult time for others. There are so many expectations, so much pressure, and often disappointment. Yet there is also joy, wonder, and connection. Sometimes, in the midst of all of this, we learn new things about ourselves or have experiences that cause us to reflect on our lives and relationships. The lovely stories in this book encompass all of these things and more. It's a wonderful seasonal collection that hits just the right note for me. The stories are not saccharine sweet, but they're uplifting, hopeful, and perfect for the season. The book was a joy to read and I think it would be a great gift for yourself or someone else. This is a collection I'd re-read every holiday season.

I hope September has started off well for you and that you're enjoying some excellent reading as we head into a new season.


Sunday, August 31, 2025

Taking Over

 I'd never seen this plant, colloquially known as giant rhubarb, until we visited Clifden nine years ago. I've seen it here and there since, but it's all over the place around here this year. I'd never seen it flowering until this month. I kind of like the flowers. You can get a sense of the size of these plants as they take over the outside of the derelict cottage.


you can see the spent fireweed, gone to seed behind the giant rhubarb--one sign that summer is coming to an end

There was a slight autumnal feel to the air this morning--very appropriate on the eve of meteorological autumn. I am thrilled.


Wednesday, August 27, 2025

Which One Should I Choose?

This time, he chose this one:
He was stretching himself out before dropping the ball at my feet. He prefers to have his balls kicked, but will accept throwing if that's all that's on offer. Games are seemingly endless. Balls are everywhere so we've learned to be careful where we step. Some of them still squeak and I quickly learned not to step on one in the middle of the night, lest I wake the furry ball boy and unwittingly start a new game at 4 am. 

He feels he is earning his keep by protecting us from the bins, which he will jump on, bite, try to pull/push over, and fiercely bark at.
the tough guy in action, protecting us from the bins
Bill and I celebrated our 45th anniversary last weekend. We had no big plans, but were going to try a diner down the road from us for supper. However, this would have meant leaving the furry dude alone and he isn't used to being alone, so we postponed it. Instead, he stayed home with Bill while I went and got a pizza. Then we all had our anniversary supper together. 

He's a very good boy and has brought lots of laughter with him during his stay, which is just past the halfway point. But he's used to a great deal of attention whenever he wants it, which is a great deal of the time. As a result, life is rather less calm than it usually is and I find that, in spite of the fact that I am awakened earlier than usual every morning by having my face licked, my time seems to vanish each day. On the other hand, my ball-kicking skills have greatly improved and I've experienced some lovely peaceful moments outside in the dark at 2 am while Himself looks for exactly the right spot to have a tinkle before bed.